


stuck on a dime piece

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Mild Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-27
Updated: 2010-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-30 09:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12650379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Pin get stuck in an elevator. A lot.





	stuck on a dime piece

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“Fuck me!” Jin screamed as the ground shook beneath his feet.

Across the small room, Yamapi’s head bounced from where he was resting against the wall. He was effectively smacked in the face on the rebound. “ _Ow_.”

He did well to remain on his feet, focusing his eyes on the fuming man who was punching buttons and eventually the wall. Just watching Jin get pissed off made him even more tired.

That last punch had to hurt, but Jin only winced a little. “Stupid cheap apartment building,” he muttered.

“You wanted to live here,” Yamapi pointed out, punctuated by a yawn. “ _Because_ of the elevator.”

Jin ignored him and reached for the elevator phone. “Hello! _Hello_!”

Now that the walls were done moving, Yamapi settled back into the corner and closed his eyes. Normally he could sleep anywhere, and it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time he fell asleep standing up, but Jin’s frustration seemed to be tugging at his consciousness.

“Fucking cell phone doesn’t get reception either,” Jin was grumbling. A loud bang immediately followed by “ _shit motherfucker_!” told Yamapi that Jin had punched the wall again.

“I don’t know why you’re getting so mad,” Yamapi said calmly. “You’re the one who insisted on taking the elevator.”

Silence. Yamapi sniffed, sinking into his hoodie as he snuggled with himself. He felt rather than heard Jin approach him and wondered if he too was going to get hit. Jin’s huffing gradually became louder and he thought about wincing, but instead his knees buckled and sent him slumping to the floor.

Now on his butt, he didn’t have to worry about balancing his weight and curled up in the corner, accidentally kicking Jin’s shoe in the process. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“ _Pi_ …” Jin heaved a sigh, paused, and dropped to the floor as well. “May as well sit.”

Jin was whining, which was a lot better than raging. Yamapi could handle whiny Jin. “If you’re claustrophobic, just close your eyes,” he instructed. “That works for Koyama when we’re all stuck in an enclosed space together.”

“I’m not claustrophobic,” Jin said, the fight gone from his voice as he shuffled around, presumably getting comfortable.

He kicked Yamapi’s shoe, and Yamapi smiled. “There are only a few hours until morning. May as well sleep.”

“I can’t sleep in an elevator,” Jin protested. “I don’t know how you can. My body is stiff enough as it is. It’s also cold in here.”

Suddenly the backs of Yamapi’s eyelids looked darker.

“And now the fucking lights are out. Just great.”

“At least it didn’t crash? Yamapi suggested.

Jin blew air through undoubtedly pursed lips. “If it crashed, rescuers would come right away.”

“We would also be dead,” Yamapi added. “Or really hurt.”

Another noise expressed Jin’s disconcern with technicalities. “I don’t _wanna_ be stuck in here with you.”

“Hey,” Yamapi called out, his voice a lot deeper than he intended. “It could be a lot worse. You could be stuck in here with Kame.”

He couldn’t see Jin’s face, but he saw the scrunched-up look of disgust clear as day behind his eyes and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at nothing.

“You’re boring,” was Jin’s verbal response. “You would have gone to sleep already if I wasn’t keeping you awake.”

Yamapi was pretty sure that Jin would keep him awake regardless, but all he did was grunt affirmatively.

“ _Pi_ ~” Jin sang, and Yamapi faked an annoyed expression before he remembered that Jin couldn’t see his face. “Stay awake and talk to me.”

“Fine. What do you want to talk about?” Yamapi gave in.

“I don’t know, girls,” Jin replied. “Music, cars, food, porn…”

“Are we twelve years old?” Yamapi asked sarcastically. “Besides, I already know anything you would have to say on any of those topics.”

“You don’t know what kind of porn I like,” Jin taunted. “Maybe my tastes have changed since the last time we talked about it.”

“European girls,” Yamapi told him. “Just girls, no men. Fake boobs and curly hair. Usually by a beach of some form of water.”

Jin paused, and Yamapi felt very satisfied with himself. “How the fuck do you know all of that?”

“Psychic,” Yamapi answered. Jin didn’t have to know that Yamapi found a bunch of downloaded porn on one of their shared network drives. Nor that he watched it all. “I’m right anyway.”

Jin made a noncommittal noise. “So? You like boring Japanese _straight_ porn.”

He said it like an insult, and Yamapi just laughed. There was nothing boring about Japanese porn, but he didn’t feel like arguing. “Don’t you think it’s a little weird for two grown men to talk about porn in a dark elevator?”

“I think I saw one that started this way, actually,” Jin said, then quickly added, “It was two girls, though.”

He was lying. Yamapi had found that one in a different folder and thought it was an accidental download until this very minute. Luckily he was too tired to be bothered by it. “Really,” he feigned interest.

“Yeah,” Jin said, sounding distracted as the conversation died.

Yamapi expected something to follow that, but not even Jin’s breathing could be heard. Concerned, Yamapi squinted one eye open and saw a shadow in front of him, the silhouette of Jin that slowly came into focus the longer he stared. Hair pulled back off his face by both hands, eyes squeezed shut and lips slightly parted as his body shook with each breath.

He was shivering.

Yamapi wondered if this is what heartbreak felt like. He was tired enough to feel no shame, and it was dark enough to move without inhibition. Jin jumped when Yamapi poked him, but he only resisted for a second as Yamapi tugged on his sleeve. There was some blind shifting around and then Jin’s head was on his shoulder, ice-cold body curled up next to his that Yamapi embraced with both arms in an attempt to warm him up.

No words were spoken, and Yamapi was glad. He didn’t think he could come up with anything to say even if there were stage lights shining on him, a microphone in his face and a sea of curious faces awaiting his words.

_We’re not twelve anymore,_ he wanted to say, to reiterate, but that was just a forceful reminder that he had felt this way for years.

He fell asleep with Jin in his arms, an even breath on his neck and soft hair in his face, and it was okay because it was Jin.

*

The best thing about this industry was that there wasn’t much time to dwell on things that weighed heavily on his mind. There wasn’t much time for anything, really, utilizing commute time for quick, unhealthy breakfasts, primping, and naps. On stage, he shone like always, along with the others with whom he shared the spotlight.

Yamapi loved being busy as much as any of them, but there might have been a selfish reason too. He was often asked why he seemed so carefree – didn’t the popular idol have any worries? – and while he usually answered with deep, insightful advice about confidence and being optimistic, the truth was that he didn’t have time to even _think_ about being bothered. If there was free time, he wasn’t conscious for it.

He didn’t even see Jin for a whole week after the elevator incident, and they _lived_ together. Ironically, the next time he saw him was on the elevator at work when Yamapi was on his way to meet his group.

“I didn’t think you had to come here anymore,” Yamapi thought out loud. If it were anyone else, he might have felt guilty about being rude, but it wasn’t anyone else.

“I don’t,” Jin said bluntly. “Johnny-san wanted me to stop in and tell him how preparations are coming along.”

Yamapi nodded, slumping back into the corner as a group of staff members joined them on the next floor. Some executives got on next, probably returning to their corporate offices, and Jin ended up squished in the corner with Yamapi.

“Do you have a meeting too?” Jin inquired with a frown. Yamapi wanted to think that Jin was concerned about his job stability, but probably he was displeased with the prospect of waiting for Yamapi to finish before he could handle his own business.

“No,” Yamapi answered, and Jin visibly cheered up. “We’re meeting on the roof to go over some vocals.”

“You sing on the roof?” Jin asked skeptically.

Yamapi shrugged. “It works for us. Koyama claims that the fresh air clears our vocal chords, but I think that most of us are just happier outside.”

Jin snorted. “If KAT-TUN ever rehearsed on the roof, someone would get thrown over the edge.”

“That someone would have probably been you,” Yamapi pointed out, and Jin didn’t argue.

More people got on the elevator and Yamapi found himself practically molded into one person with Jin. His nose was filled with a mixture of Jin’s shampoo, cologne, the laundry detergent his mother uses, and the deodorant they got on sale last month. Jin’s heartbeat was practically in his own chest, causing his own to speed up and match. In the pockets of his hoodie, one of which was jammed into Yamapi’s kidney, Jin was clenching his hands into fists.

He was nervous.

It was a split-second decision, but this time he didn’t have an excuse of being half-asleep or blinded by darkness. Inconspicuously he slipped his hand into Jin’s pocket, coaxing his fingers out of the fist and grabbing onto as much as he could. He felt Jin tense next to him, but it was short lived. Within seconds Jin’s heartbeat slowed, he breathed deeply, and his hand tightened onto Yamapi’s.

Most of the passengers poured out on the next floor, leaving the two of them alone. Jin scooted away to give them both breathing room but didn’t let go, didn’t look at Yamapi or even acknowledge that he was actively holding his hand, which he dropped when the elevator chimed at the next floor.

“See you,” Jin said casually, disappearing without another glance.

Despite the crisp fall weather, Yamapi’s hand was warm all throughout their rehearsal.

*

It was late when Yamapi got home from concert rehearsal, stumbling through the lobby and ricocheting between the rows of mailboxes. Normally he took the stairs, at least when he was by himself, but tonight he didn’t think he would make it up to the first landing. Wavering in his stance, he waited for the elevator to ding.

When the doors opened, Yamapi’s eyes grew as large as the eyes of the girl whom Jin was grinding into the wall.

“Sor- oh, it’s just Pi,” Jin said, practically into this girl’s mouth, offering a brief wave before his hand returned to her curly hair.

Yamapi shook his head and stepped onto the elevator, conveniently facing the front. Not that it mattered, because the doors were mirrored. He tried to focus on something else – anything else – instead of watching them, but his gaze locked on the wave of Jin’s body as he rocked against her, her leg lifted up enough to make their intentions blatantly obvious.

If he didn’t think he would fall asleep where he stood, he would have closed his eyes. They only lived on the third floor, but it felt like an eternity to get there. He could hear Jin’s harsh breathing mixed with barely audible grunts that died on their entwining tongues as he clearly saw Jin’s hands tense with the pressure accumulating between them.

A thought crossed Yamapi’s mind – if he had waited ten more minutes to leave, would he have walked in on him fucking her? He supposed their apartment and indirectly Jin’s bedroom was just too far. The elevator hadn’t even been moving before Yamapi got on; Jin and his late-night companion had apparently been too preoccupied to push the button.

She was pretty, but she looked like every other foreigner in this city. Still dark but not Asian, defined curves and thick, thick lips. Yamapi wondered where Jin had found her since she wasn’t dressed in typical club wear, but he didn’t put it past his longtime friend to pick up a girl at the conbini or even the gym. Jin seemed to emit pheromones at all times, particularly to foreign girls.

In the excruciating thirty seconds it took for the elevator to reach their floor, Yamapi entertained himself with the realization that Jin was in the exact same position as one of the guys in that gay porn he’d found. He just hoped that Jin would wait until Yamapi was safely inside their apartment before spinning her around and doing her from behind.

To his credit, he did wait, but Yamapi wasn’t spared from the soundtrack. Jin presumably remembered that he did in fact have a perfectly good bed on which he could service his lady of the evening, the pair of them groping down the hallway behind Yamapi and leaving him to lock the door behind them as they fell into Jin’s room.

At least the path was clear this time. After countless nights of banging knees and knocking things over, Jin had finally just moved everything out of the way. Yamapi retreated into his room, shed his clothes, and flopped face-first onto his bed. Soft R&B and bass wafted through the wall, but Yamapi could still hear him.

Her. Him. Sometimes he couldn’t tell the difference.

As tired as he was, he couldn’t sleep. His brain was wholly focused on the actions in the next room, every creak and groan that got louder as they raced toward their peaks. Jin never lasted long with girls; that’s how Yamapi knew they didn’t mean anything to him. If Yamapi could hold out for a little longer, Jin would be done and he could sleep in peace.

Except that this time, peace wanted to come in a different way. Contrary to popular belief, Yamapi wasn’t stupid. He was just very, very good at ignoring the obvious. Undetectable things like heart flops and butterflies in his stomach were practically nonexistent to him. Sporadic thoughts throughout the day, deep aches in his soul, and even the harsh truths of reality were forgotten before his next breath.

An erection, however, could not be as easily thwarted.

His hand was already traveling down his stomach by the time he came to terms with what was about to happen. He was going to touch himself, and he was going to do it while listening to Jin have sex. He didn’t even have to trick his brain into pretending that it was just like watching a porn; he had long since accepted that his feelings for Jin went far beyond the comfortable boundaries of friendship.

It wouldn’t hurt to fantasize a little. A gasp escaped Yamapi’s lips before he was ready, his fingers gripping onto the hard flesh without conscious instruction. The pair of high-pitched voices escalated from the next room and Yamapi increased his speed to catch up, nearly choking on his air as arousal flooded his body faster than he could process it.

The imagination was a dangerous place, combined with his knowledge of what Jin looked like naked and how it had felt to be close to him. His body rocked into his own fist, the concept of savoring this feeling foreign to him as he flung his free arm over his face and shook with the force of his efforts. He didn’t need to muffle any noises – not that anyone would hear him over the competition – but the pressure on his eyes helped to make it a little less real.

When he came, it was like an implosion. Yamapi felt like his insides shot out along with his release, leaving him feeling completely empty with damp, trembling skin and dry lips. He could feel his heart somewhere in his throat, beating faster than should be physically possible as he found his breath and slowly returned to life as he knew it.

The night was silent, Jin’s latest sperm depository having come and gone. Yamapi heard nothing, not even the music or any other sign that Jin was still awake. It was possible that he walked her out, but not likely, and Jin didn’t bring home anyone who couldn’t find their way back.

It took the last of his energy, but Yamapi reached for a handful of tissues and cleaned up the best he could. He started to lean towards the wastebasket, but then his door flung open and he almost fell out of bed in shock.

No words, just a weight on the mattress and a whine when he tried to steal Yamapi’s pillow that was held firm.

“Why are you even in here?” Yamapi mumbled, struggling to calm his heavy breathing.

“Why are you not asleep?” Jin countered. He must have decided to give up, because he let go of Yamapi’s pillow and situated his head on his own arm.

“I just woke up,” Yamapi lied, shoving at him. “Go sleep in your own bed.”

“My bed is gross,” Jin replied. “Girls are messy.”

Yamapi wrinkled his nose. “Then go sleep on the couch while you wash your sheets or something.”

“Just shut up and pretend you’re still asleep like every other time,” Jin shot back.

He sounded irritated now, but Yamapi was just confused. He didn’t remember any other occasions when Jin slept in his bed after bringing a girl home. Although it was possible that Jin just woke up before him or – more likely – Yamapi was such a zombie in the morning that he didn’t notice another person in his bed.

Defeated, Yamapi rolled onto his back and barely kept from elbowing Jin in the side. He was close, not close enough to touch but definitely close enough to smell, the combination of sweat and sex mixed with Jin’s shampoo that was more potent on damp hair. As he situated his covers, Yamapi was reminded of that first encounter in the elevator, only this time Jin was the opposite of cold and anxious.

He flung the covers over Jin anyway, and in the morning he vaguely recalled hugging onto something warm as he slowly woke up on his way to work.

*

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Jin joked, his spirits looking high as he punched the button for their floor.

“Nah, I like having my own personal bell boy,” Yamapi replied with a straight face, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms while Jin narrowed his eyes.

The concerts were over, the brutal rehearsals more spaced out. Yamapi now had enough coherent brain cells to not only stay awake, but perform affectionate mocking. Jin wouldn’t be around forever, after all. He was scheduled to leave the country at the end of the week.

Just another heavy thing to weigh on his mind, and this time he wasn’t busy enough to push it away.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by the elevator screeching to a halt. Torn between fear and anger, he settled for gaping wordlessly as Jin leaned against the control panel with his forehead resting on the shiny steel.

The reaction didn’t fit. Yamapi expected him to yell and punch the wall like last time, maybe a shriek of “Not again!” with some swearing and a reddening face. Jin’s skin was its normal color, his features void of any rage and his hands hidden by his body.

As he slowly stepped back, Yamapi saw his fingers fall from the extended emergency stop lever.

“Jin,” he said in a breath. It was ironically the same thing he was going to say before, only because that was as far as he’d gotten in his thinking. “What…”

There were a thousand questions he could have asked Jin at that moment. What was he _doing_? What was he _thinking_? What was that indescribable look in his eyes as he lifted his head to meet Yamapi’s incredulous stare?

Yamapi couldn’t decide which one to go with, which worked out because the next moment stole his breath right out of his lungs. Jin had crossed the small room in one stride and closed the distance between them, the wall hard against Yamapi’s back and Jin’s lips soft against his before he could process anything other than shock.

It was a pleasant shock, one that melted into just pleasure as the throbbing in his shoulder blade was soothed by Jin’s hands wrapping around him. Jin’s whole body pressed against his, one leg between his to effectively pin him to the wall.

Instinctively Yamapi tilted his head to reciprocate, and Jin’s groan vibrated against his tongue. This was nothing like he’d thought it would be – on the rare occasions he allowed himself to think about it – aside from being completely unexpected. Jin kissed slowly but strongly, deep enough to make Yamapi’s head spin but light enough to have him craving more. It was Yamapi who encircled Jin’s waist with both arms, pulling him close and flicking his tongue to summon Jin’s.

He was certain that the rush of air against his cheek was a relieved sigh.

Now there were new questions that wanted to be asked, a flood of words that wanted to come out, and – most of all – a burning desire to get off this elevator and into their apartment. Jin rocked against him and instantly he was reminded of the girl Jin had brought home, the girl whose position he was now in. Except that this time there was much less vigor and much more sensuality.

“Jin,” Yamapi tried again. It came out as more of a rush of air against Jin’s lips than anything resembling actual speech, but it served the purpose.

Jin paused in his actions, licked his lips and a bit of Yamapi’s in the process, and leaned their foreheads together. “What?” he asked casually. Impatiently.

It was like Yamapi had interrupted him doing something important, like writing lyrics or composing music. Or woken him up from a deep sleep. The more comparisons he made, the less logic Yamapi had for actively stopping him. Especially since every fiber of his mind, body, and soul wanted the exact _opposite_.

“We’re in an elevator,” he finally said.

Jin laughed, completely carefree. “I think we’ve proven that the landlord doesn’t give a shit about elevators that go out.”

“It’s the middle of the day,” Yamapi pointed out.

“We’re the only lazy bastards who actually use this thing,” Jin countered, and Yamapi was ready to protest until he felt a blatant squeeze between his legs and Jin added, “Do you really want me to stop?”

Shaking his head, that was the only thing Yamapi was sure of right now. Jin’s mouth crashed back against his like he had to make up for the time they’d spent apart, and Yamapi no longer had any argument in him. Jin’s hand expertly massaged him through his pants; he went from ‘confused, but interested’ to ‘don’t care, gotta have it now’ within seconds. A scene from the elevator porn flashed briefly in front of his eyes, and it occurred to him that it wouldn’t matter if _he_ were the one who was spun around and fucked from behind as long as Jin got him off while he did it.

The more heated Jin’s actions got, the more accustomed to the idea Yamapi became. It was apparent that his mind was lagging behind his body, though, because his legs were already open, his fists clenching the material of Jin’s shirt as his lips and tongue responded to Jin’s lead in true submissive style.

Upon this realization, Yamapi thought about reminding Jin that he was, in fact, _not_ just another girl in whom he could shoot his load and kick out of bed, but Jin seemed to be well aware of that already. At least the ‘not a girl’ part, which was obvious as Jin unfastened Yamapi’s pants with one hand and pulled out his cock to stroke it directly.

Anything Yamapi had intended to say came out in a long, drawn-out groan, which was swallowed by Jin and answered with a tightening grip of Jin’s hand. Yamapi fell helpless to the touch, an embarrassing whimper sounding from the back of his throat as Jin twisted his wrist and squeezed the head. His hips jerked on their own and Jin kept on like this, Yamapi was going to come right there on both of their clothes.

He opened his mouth to say as much, but this time he was cut off by Jin pulling _away_. “What?” he asked dazedly.

Jin’s hand paused as well, for which Yamapi was both grateful and frustrated. “I can’t do this here,” Jin practically growled, his voice deeper than Yamapi’s ever heard it before.

“Jin,” Yamapi said for the third time. It came out as a whine, but Yamapi couldn’t bring himself to contradict it. “You can’t just stop now.”

“I can’t?” Jin was smirking when Yamapi opened his eyes, narrowing them enough for Jin to quickly give in. “Okay, okay. Sorry.”

Yamapi didn’t even bother to formulate a response, because Jin’s hand started to move again and Jin’s mouth dropped to his neck. It felt nice, the gentle sucking and nibbling in contrast to Jin’s hot breath on his skin, but it disappeared the moment Yamapi closed his eyes and leaned his head back to give Jin more access. The angle Jin was stroking him changed, the atmosphere different and the next time Jin exhaled, it wasn’t anywhere near his neck.

“ _Jin_ ,” Yamapi hissed, going for an exclamation of disbelief and ending up with an encouraging groan, his cock twitching under Jin’s close scrutiny. He stared wide-eyed at Jin on his knees, Jin who was licking his lips and eyeing Yamapi’s length like he was carefully thinking about the best way to go about this.

His bangs fell into his face and Yamapi didn’t stop the urge to brush them out of the way, his fingers resting on Jin’s cheek as the latter looked up at him with determined eyes.

“Jin, you don’t have to.” He may as well have been speaking through clenched teeth for as much as he believed his own words.

Thankfully, Jin opted not to respond verbally. Yamapi’s eyes widened as he watched his cock disappear into Jin’s mouth, feeling the warmth envelop him inch by excruciating inch. Jin wasn’t going slowly to tease him, Yamapi could tell from the way he was struggling with his jaw, taking his time to get used to the girth. Yamapi watched his eyes, fully intending to stop him at the first sign of discomfort. Normally he wouldn’t pay such close attention to the person who was sucking him off, figuring they would just stop if it started to hurt, but this wasn’t just some girl from the club.

This was Jin. Jin with Yamapi’s cock in his mouth, Jin’s brown eyes staring up at him to gauge his reaction. After a few test movements, with which Yamapi had no complaints, Jin leaned against Yamapi’s lax hand and looked at him expectantly. As disturbing as the thought was, he was like a puppy who wanted praise for good behavior. Yamapi brushed his fingers along Jin’s cheek, gently rubbing the back of his jaw and feeling for himself how hard it was working to suck him in and out. Somehow it made him enjoy it a lot more.

Jin’s mouth was euphoria, so hot and inviting that Yamapi had to stop himself from just grabbing Jin’s hair and fucking his face. He couldn’t do that with him, at least not yet. The prospect of having this happen again made his own skin feel warm, his heart filled with something that was definitely not blind lust as he fought to keep his eyes open and focused on Jin’s beautiful face puffed up by the force of his efforts.

It only took a couple more cycles of sucking Yamapi in and pushing him back out for Jin to find his rhythm, becoming more confident in his actions as he hollowed his cheeks and used an airtight suction. Yamapi couldn’t stop the gasps that were coming out of his mouth or the pleading in his own eyes, off of which he knew Jin was feeding. He felt the familiar pool of arousal in his groin and slid his fingers up into Jin’s hair, tugging it gently as a warning, which was all he could manage before Jin sucked on the head and Yamapi’s orgasm tore through him.

Yamapi’s bliss was interrupted by a shift in gravity, drastically pulling him back to reality where the elevator had been returned to its moving state. Jin was back on his feet, a smug smirk on his face as Yamapi rushed to fasten his pants before the doors opened on their floor.

None of their neighbors happened to be loitering in the hallway, but it wouldn’t have been the first time they would witness Yamapi glaring at a snickering Jin as they got off the elevator. It wouldn’t even be the first time Jin was practically pulling Yamapi’s arm out of its socket as he dragged him towards their door, nor with their fingers laced.

It would, however, be the first time that Jin was being led by something other than his usual childish enthusiasm. His track pants did nothing to hide the reaction their elevator excursion had had on him, and Yamapi was both terrified and thrilled by the certain uncertainty that waited for them on the other side of their door.

*

The door clicked shut and Yamapi wasn’t sure what he expected, but being left untouched was not it. He watched in surprise and a bit of disappointment as Jin dropped his hand and strode awkwardly into the kitchen, bracing himself with both hands against the counter and hanging his head so that his hair hid his face.

“Jin?” Yamapi said gently, followed by a sharp inhale because he still hadn’t yet caught his breath.

“I owe you an explanation,” Jin said in a low, calm voice. “I shouldn’t have… but I did, and now… and _now_.” He made a frustrated noise as he shook his head. “I fucked it all up.”

“Jin,” Yamapi said again, carefully crossing the carpeted floor to where it turned into linoleum. “It’s okay, Jin. It’s just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” Jin lifted his head, meeting Yamapi’s eyes with such a hurt expression that for a second, Yamapi forgot who just accosted whom in the elevator. “It’s _you_.”

“It’s me,” Yamapi repeated. He had intended to force a smile, but it ended up coming naturally. “What’s wrong with me?”

Jin actually laughed, a short sound that echoed throughout the otherwise silent apartment and resounded in Yamapi’s ears. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Absolutely nothing.”

After being friends for so long, Yamapi could read Jin’s mind to an extent. It helped that Jin was bad at hiding his true feelings, usually wearing his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see. Everyone who knew him, really _knew_ him off camera and behind the scenes, knew that he was a good man. Misunderstandings were a guarantee in this industry, even blatant lies for negative publicity, but there was never a doubt in Yamapi’s mind that Jin’s intentions were pure, his ambitions sky-high, and his feelings true.

When Jin loved someone, he loved them with all of his heart.

“What are you saying?” Yamapi asked slowly, trying not to let the desperation shake his voice. He was pretty confident in his insight this time, but he wanted to hear it from Jin. In words.

“I’m leaving in a few days,” was what Jin said. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. You may be busy then.”

“It’s fine,” Yamapi said dismissively, closing the distance between them and placing his hand firmly over Jin’s. He could feel the tension in Jin’s fingers, instantly relaxing under his touch. “There’s always the future.”

Jin laughed again. “You’re such an optimist. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Liar,” Yamapi called, and Jin didn’t bother to hide his smile. “You leaving just means that you should just say whatever you want to say in case you don’t get another chance.”

“That is not optimistic,” Jin told him. “Not optimistic at all. Morbid, even.”

Yamapi leaned over to bump Jin in the shoulder. “Say it.”

“ _Why_ ,” Jin whined, swinging to the side like a pendulum and returning the bump. “Wasn’t… what I did… wasn’t that enough? I don’t do that for just anyone, you know.”

“Say it,” Yamapi said again. Bump.

“No,” Jin said stubbornly. Bump. “You say it.”

“Say it.” Bump. “Say it. Sayitsayitsayitsayitsay-”

“I’m in love with your stupid face!” Jin finally yelled.

There were no more bumps. Jin’s eyes widened as he stared at the counter like he was engraving the marble pattern to memory. He wasn’t visibly shaking, but Yamapi knew better than to take anything at face value when it came to Jin.

“Just my stupid face?” Yamapi asked lightly, hiding a smirk.

Narrowed eyes turned towards him. “I’m not saying it again. Ever.”

Yamapi pried Jin’s hand off of the counter and held it in his own, slipping his fingers between Jin’s and rubbing his thumbs along Jin’s knuckles. He watched Jin watch their hands, mesmerized by the repetitive action until Yamapi cleared his throat. “I’m glad you said it first, because there’s no way I could have.”

Now Jin looked at him, really _looked_ at him as he squeezed Yamapi’s hand. For courage, for affection, for the hell of it – Yamapi didn’t know. “Say it now.”

Yamapi never thought this moment would ever come. Even on the rare occasions where he permitted himself the delusions of fantasizing, if just in a daydream, the painful truth was always sharp in the back of his mind. They were Jin and Yamapi, world famous idols. They were both men. Jin was about to embark on a journey that no one from their agency had ever before attempted.

“[I love your ugly face too](http://agirlcalledkil.com/pics/pinartforri.png),” Yamapi replied, interrupting his own thought process in favor of everything that contradicted it.

Jin laughed, a soothing sound, and all of Yamapi’s apprehensions seemed to just melt away. “Now what?” he asked casually, continuing to hold Yamapi’s hand like he could have done it forever, like that was all he needed from Yamapi at that moment.

It was the entire reason Yamapi took a deep breath, licked his lips, and clearly said, “Now we go to bed.”

“Bed?” Jin repeated, looking confused. “But it’s the middle of the afternoon.”

Reaching for Jin’s face wasn’t as awkward as it could have been, and it was much more comfortable once his lips were on Jin’s again. It was just like before, except this time there was no underlying fear of getting caught or any doubt in regard to emotions. Jin’s kiss took him over completely, his arms looping around Jin’s shoulders while Jin’s grip tightened on his waist, holding him so close that Yamapi felt like they could easily become one person.

The air around them got very hot very fast, and Yamapi was quickly reminded of his direction and the purpose behind it that poked him in the hip. “Jin,” his gasped into Jin’s mouth. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jin didn’t need any more prodding, particularly when Yamapi reached down to take his clothed erection in hand and drew out the most beautiful moan from Jin’s lungs. It may have been Yamapi’s idea, but Jin all but pushed him across their apartment and into the closest bedroom, which happened to be Yamapi’s.

A wave of insecurity coursed through Yamapi as he fell backwards onto his own bed, Jin’s full weight crashing on top of him in a way that was not at all unpleasant as Jin’s tongue returned to his mouth. He must have sensed Yamapi’s hesitation, because his kissing slowed down until his lips were just dragging along Yamapi’s with his hands on Yamapi’s abs.

“Pi?” he whispered questioningly.

“I’m not one of your girls,” Yamapi said darkly, hands firm on Jin’s hips as he rocked up sharply to emphasize his statement. A moan slipped out as his cock hardened against Jin’s, the rough material of his pants somewhere between a hindrance and relief.

Jin pulled away enough to meet his eyes, looking down at him with concern and a hint of indignation. “I don’t fuck girls face to face,” he said clearly.

Then they were kissing again, or more like Jin was devouring Yamapi, grinding against him with such intent that Yamapi was starting to think they were going to finish just like that. Jin probably would have been fine with it, but it was Yamapi who reached for Jin’s waistband and shoved his hand inside, grabbing onto Jin’s flesh directly and shuddering at Jin’s appreciative noise.

“Jin,” he gasped, stroking him from base to tip and sweeping his thumb over the head.

“Are you just saying my name or are you asking me something?” Jin replied breathlessly. “I can never tell.”

“Stupid,” Yamapi said affectionately. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t call me stupid when I’m in bed with you,” Jin shot back, kissing Yamapi even harder like it was his retaliation for being mocked.

“Shut up and fuck me,” Yamapi breathed, and Jin paused with his tongue partially coiled around Yamapi’s. Yamapi broke the kiss and leaned back against his pillow, taking the opportunity to inhale as much as he could with Jin on top of him. “I won’t say it again,” he added.

To his credit, Jin didn’t ask awkward questions or push for Yamapi’s assurance. He didn’t say anything at all, just dipped his head to sweep his lips across Yamapi’s in what was more of a teasing kiss than anything else, but it served the purpose as Jin went straight for Yamapi’s pants and got to work. They broke apart once to pull Yamapi’s shirt over his head, then again to take care of Jin’s since he couldn’t seem to be gone from Yamapi’s mouth long enough to do both in one go.

Surprisingly, things came easier once they were both naked and moving together. Yamapi wasn’t sure about Jin – didn’t want to know, actually – but he hadn’t done this before, not with another man and definitely not on the receiving end. He tried not to pass judgment as Jin reached over to bang around in his nightstand, emerging with a condom and tube that was halfway rolled up and made Yamapi’s heart die a little in his chest.

“Don’t worry,” Jin whispered against his jaw line. “It’s just for me. I swear.”

“Freak,” Yamapi grumbled, and Jin laughed into his skin.

Yamapi felt Jin’s fingers on the back of his thigh and jumped. He knew what had to happen, preferred that it was done properly, even, but he couldn’t help but feel more and more nervous as Jin urged his knees up and trailed his light touch back down his thigh, on the inside this time.

“It’s okay,” Jin said. “It’ll be okay.”

Yamapi believed him. He bit his lip as Jin pushed a finger inside him, bracing himself, but it didn’t hurt. Jin was gentle, stretching him carefully before inserting another, and Yamapi gradually became used to the intrusion until it started to feel _good_.

“Jin,” he rushed out, unsure as to reason for his sudden anxiety until his body violently shook with pleasure. His next words were incoherent, a long, drawn-out moan as Jin rubbed a spot inside him that had him ready to fall apart. “ _Jin_ ,” he insisted.

He didn’t think Jin understood him, nor did he think he could kick him at this angle, but then he heard the sound of foil crinkling and it was both calming and exhilarating at the same time. Jin withdrew his fingers and shifted around on top of him until Yamapi felt something big and hard between his legs, his eyes widening on instinct.

Above him, Jin looked just as scared as Yamapi felt, and that was all Yamapi needed to see to lift his knees as far as he could and relax enough to accept Jin into his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the worst, but a light kiss to his collarbone completely negated any initial pain as Jin slowly slid inside. It was almost too slow, bringing Yamapi to the edge of sanity where he was ready to dig his heels into the cheeks of Jin’s ass and force him in the rest of the way.

Then Jin made a beautiful, beautiful noise, and Yamapi’s heart did some sort of implosion in his chest. He dropped his hand to Jin’s hair, running his fingers through the thick strands, and Jin tightened arms around Yamapi’s back as he buried himself completely and paused to give them a chance to adjust.

Yamapi didn’t want to adjust. Yamapi was just fine with the strain, the reminder that he was giving himself to Jin, like he could have forgotten. Jin was throbbing inside him and Yamapi’s body was aching for it, his nerves itching for him to _move already_. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, not because they were shameful but because his brain wasn’t transmitting the order to speak, so he just grabbed a fistful of Jin’s hair, _pulled_ , and hoped that he got his point across.

Jin let out a pained whine, but he also thrust deeply like it was involuntary. Yamapi felt Jin’s fingers dig into his shoulder blades, forehead pressing against the top of his sternum. Short, quick breaths into his skin, his movements increasing to match it. Yamapi rocked with him and together they found a rhythm, Yamapi’s mouth falling open to let out continuous, uncontrollable groans as Jin kept hitting him where he wanted it.

“T-Tomo,” Jin gasped, latching onto him almost desperately as his hips moved at impossible speeds. “Oh, god.”

This time Yamapi’s pull on Jin’s hair was vengeful. “If you come without me, I’m never letting you do this again.”

He pretended not to hear Jin huff as he leaned on one arm and managed to wedge the other between them. He felt Jin’s hand wrap around him, completely unsteady and off-beat, but Yamapi could have cared less with the way his body bounced back and forth like he was being electrocuted. Down against Jin’s cock and up into his hand, everything in Yamapi’s world quickly faded away except for Jin all around him – inside him – and the need to come.

Inevitably it was Jin who set him off, his piercing cry in a prelude to his own orgasm, and that was the last thing Yamapi heard before giving in to his own demise. Minutes later, his skin still tingled and his brain was still pleasantly fuzzy, but his chest was also still crushed.

It was an ironic reminder, along with the nagging voice in his head that chided him for his horrible timing. Them, actually, since it was Jin’s fault too. Maybe even entirely. Yamapi foresaw a lot of secret emails and texts being sent while Jin was overseas, but it wouldn’t be any different than the first time. Or any other time they’ve both had to work and not been able to get together for weeks – months – at a time.

Correction – it _would_ be different, Yamapi thought, but only because they could be like this when they finally reunited. Even if Jin’s weight was restricting Yamapi’s air.

“I can’t breathe,” he wheezed.

“I can’t _move_ ,” Jin replied, and Yamapi could feel the giant, goofy grin on Jin’s face as he settled on top of him, crushing him even more.

It was a battle worth losing, even when he heard Jin snap off the condom and toss it in the general direction of the wastebasket. “At least it wasn’t in the elevator,” he thought out loud.

“Who would have sex in an elevator?” Jin asked skeptically, followed by a laugh. “Besides porn stars, anyway.”

“ _Male_ porn stars,” Yamapi pointed out with a smirk.

Jin had the decency to look sheepish. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you don’t want me to find your porn, you should hide it better,” Yamapi told him.

Chuckling softly, Jin snuggled closer and laced their fingers together. “Maybe I wanted you to find it.”


End file.
